This story is about a girl
by Kiishu
Summary: This story is about a girl with dark brown eyes and too much time on her hands. She goes by a generic name, something like Sarah or Emily with a middle name, just as generic, which she won't tell anyone anyway. She acts shy and makes mistakes but this time, one of her misdemeanour's is going to change her life.


I've been away for so long and just re-discovered this mess of an account. So why not add to it?

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This story is about a girl with dark brown eyes and too much time on her hands. She goes by a generic name, something like Sarah or Emily with a middle name, just as generic, which she won't tell anyone anyway. She acts shy and makes mistakes but this time, one of her misdemeanour's is going to change her life.

The pink rubber on her pencil tapped her lips. She stared out the window, green eyes glowing bright, lost in her own mind. The sun hugged her tanned face, giving her a golden filter. Her hair was black and framed her face perfectly, just teasing her shoulders. This is not who this story is about. No, this girl was someone with a foreign name, something which intrigued people, it was exotic, Malia, I think. This story is about the girl who's currently studying Malia's face, drawn in by her beauty. Her name's Becky '*******' Williams.

Now don't get me wrong, Becky was talented. She could get straight A's without studying a single minute but that didn't matter to her, or anyone else other than her teachers for that matter. The thing was, Becky was the least socially confident person you could find. Just the words, 'group outing', would send her biting her fingernails and tripping over her own feet. Sure, she had a small, but close, group of friends who really knew her, but others she kept a dramatically large distance with. She was almost the juxtaposition of Malia. Almost.

Becky's eyes darted around Malia's face, to her soft, rosy lips and her glittering eyes. Becky wanted to be her, have everyone swoon over her and be able to get away with murder. Breaking the monotonous tone of the room was the school bell. Students started scurrying like rats to grab their belongings and flee the classroom. Malia was a statue in her seat, still in her dreams. Remembering her next lesson, Becky stuffed her books in her bag and walked out of the room, unaware on the eyes on her.

Becky was alone in her next lesson, nobody she knew particularly well was in her class which meant she had the freedom of remaining undisturbed for the while. Just enough time to daydream about something. Anything, anyone... Malia. She would be looking at Becky with intent, crawling towards her, her freckles prominent and her plump lips glossed with honey. Her shirt slipping from her shoulders, hair messy and eyes half lidded and dark with desire. Her small hands would reach out for Becky, her teeth would graze over the glazed lips and their lips would meet, the sticky substance coating Becky's own lips, the taste sweet, making her delirious. She wanted more, for Malia to touch her more, to taste her.

Becky didn't know if Malia liked girls, maybe she was asexual. But she could dream at least. Or at least she thought she could.  
"Becky. Wake up." Becky's eyes flickered opened, vision hazy. Her eyes met a pair of green diamonds. Becky shot up sitting straight in her chair, eyes wide and dilated.  
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. It's almost 4pm though and I didn't want you to be here all night." The sweet voice explained but got no response. Becky's face was red hot.  
"Oh, are you Ill? I can help if you'd like." She went on.  
"No, no. I'm fine." Becky brushed her worry off. She grabbed her bag swiftly and threw it over her shoulder. "Thanks..." Becky carried on before almost running out of the classroom.

The corridor walls were getting more and more narrow, her breathing quickened as she ran to escape the confines. Then the cold autumn air hit her face, cooling her. She stood, legs weak from the sudden physical activity. Not stopping for long to get back her breath, she started walking as fast as she could to get home and bury herself in her bedroom. She'd have to move schools, or quit school altogether, there was no way she could look at Malia again, no way she could let Malia see her. What if she drooled or did something embarrassing in her sleep. What if she was sleep talking and Malia heard it all. The dream, Malia, her lips, Malia, honey, fuck.


End file.
